She moved her hands up the wolf’s spine, counting vertebrae, looking for wounds or injuries. Curiosity ate at her concern. Where had the creature come from? Wolves were not native to Australia and as far as she knew, the only ones in the country were those housed in zoos and animal enclosures. For this lone wolf to be in Epoc’s lab…?
Imported illegally, perhaps?
But from where?
Her seeking fingers slid through a patch of wet fur low on the wolf’s rib cage and Regan stilled her investigation. She parted the animal’s dense coat, looking for… “There it is.”
Fresh blood, bright red and warm on her fingers, seeped from a ragged hole puncturing the wolf’s side. Regan prodded the surrounding flesh gently, worrying the bullet may be embedded in bone beneath. She’d have to get the animal to Rick. Whether the bullet was there or not, the wound needed to be—
The wolf whined. Low. Almost human.
“I’m sorry, mate,” Regan soothed, removing her fingers from its rib cage. Chewing on her bottom lip, she smoothed her palms over its scapular and down first one foreleg and then the other. Both rippled with muscle and once again, uneasy wonderment wriggled in Regan’s stomach. The humerus seemed too close to human in structure to be possible. She ran her hands over it and it seemed to shift. Grow longer. Straighter.
Regan scrubbed the back of her hand against her eyes. She must be sleep deprived. Bones didn’t change structure. With a slight shake of her head, she went back to her examination. As soon as she was convinced the animal could be moved, she’d call Rick. He’d give his left nut to help her out, any excuse to try and impress her into his bed. But quite frankly, she had no hope of moving the animal herself, even if it would fit in her car.
Another whine whispered on the air, so soft Regan almost missed it. “Not much longer, my mysterious friend,” she whispered, letting her hands settle on the wolf’s rib cage again, careful to avoid its wound. Its coat felt like fine velvet under her palms and for a dreamlike moment, she felt like pressing her face to the animal’s side. She leant forward, sliding her hands to its shoulder joint in search of wounds unseen and her bare nipples brushed against the wolf’s chest, flesh to fur. Soft. Cool. So much more than she’d expected. So much more than any animal species she knew.
What type of wolf are you?
She returned her attention to the wolf’s body. With the exception of the bullet wound, it seemed physically uninjured, but who knew what Epoc’s scientists had been doing to it. She smoothed her hands over the silken fur, a distant more detached part of her mind admiring the wolf’s superb biomechanical construct. It was a creature evolved for one purpose only—to kill—yet its beauty was undeniable. Strength, menace and deadly purpose all combined in the majestic somehow romantic form of—
The thigh muscle below her palm shifted, elongated, and Regan stumbled backward, landing flat on her bare butt with an ignominious thud. She stared at the massive, powerful and utterly lupine form. Watched it contort. Shudder.
The dense fur rippled, each strand seemingly alive with its own energy. The back legs grew long, straight. Thick, corded thigh muscles formed on bones no longer short and crooked. “What the…” Regan’s stunned whisper barely left her lips.
Another shudder wracked the wolf’s contorting form. Another. And another. Its fur grew thin, retracting into the flesh beneath, disappearing with each violent convulsion until its coat no longer existed and instead…
Regan’s heart froze and she stared at the naked man laying full-length on her sofa.
The naked, trembling, gasping man laying full-length on her sofa.
Looking at her.
“What the hell?”
The man’s eyes—the angry color of a stormy winter’s sky—flicked over her face. Like oiled smoke, he was on his feet, hard, lean body coiling, pale flesh glistening with a faint sheen of sweat in the sun-filled room. Regan stared at him. Speechless. Unable to move.
Shaggy ink black hair fell across his forehead, brushed straight eyebrows of the same color, cheekbones high and angular. Smooth, curved pecs cut down to a hairless torso sculpted in muscle. Nothing detracted from the perfection of his body, not even the mean scar slashing his pale skin from navel to groin. Regan traced the ragged white line with her eye, her stomach clenching as it disappeared into a thick thatch of black pubic hair just above—
Oh, my God! He’s huge!
A sharp intake of breath jerked her gaze back up to his face, in time to see nostrils flaring on a nose almost too long, almost too large. Those stormy eyes held hers. Kept her naked ass on the carpet. Frozen.
Compelling.
The word flittered through her head, disconnected and surreal and with it came a tight throb, low in the pit of her stomach. A clenching, warm beat between her thighs.
Shit, Woman! Have you lost your mind?
She sucked in her own swift breath, tasting his sweat on the air. “Who…” She began.
Those grey eyes flickered. Grew wild. Dangerous. “You’re in a lotta trouble, love,” he growled, a soft brogue lacing the foreboding words seconds before every muscle in his perfect body coiled and he leapt.
At her.
He slammed into her, flattening her to the floor. Back, shoulders, skull. Bright pain spiked through her head, cold and hot at the same time, and she cried out. Strong, long-fingered hands clamped around her wrists, pinning them to the floor beside her head with a grip so fierce her brother would have been jealous. Regan squealed, glaring up into grey, burning eyes. “Get off me, you bastard!” She bucked—all too aware of the muscled body pressed to hers. The naked body.
Fair Dinkum, Woman! Only seconds earlier he was a wolf! Wake up!
A hot breath feathered her face, ruffled her hair and she bucked again. This was no dream. He was no dream. “Get off me, you freak!”
Grey eyes flashed, all the more intense for the thick, black lashes framing them. “I’m no freak, lady.”
The words flowed from well-defined lips, the soft Irish accent she’d heard earlier cut with anger. Long, corded legs battled hers, pinned them to the floor with a brutal strength. His knees shoved at hers, spreading her thighs wide until her lower body was completely trapped by his.
A rock-hard pressure nudged at the soft lips of her sex and Regan sucked in a sharp breath. Oh no, he was aroused!
Aren’t you?
Hot, terrified shame tore through her. Yes. She was. “Get off me!” she screamed, thrashing underneath him in desperate fury. “Get off me! Get off me! Get off me!”
Declan stared down at the woman beneath him, fighting like hell to keep her in his hold. Christ, she was a wild cat. Even with her legs trapped under the considerable weight of his own, she’d almost thrown him off more than once. What the hell did she do for a living? Wrestle rhinos?
No, Dec. She takes on security guards.
“Get off me!” she screamed again, body like a live current of electricity. He pressed into her, trying to hold her still, trying not to think about the lithe muscles of her limbs and tummy, the sweat-slicked smoothness of her bare skin, the velvet heat between her thighs mashing against his ever-growing shaft with each whiplash buck she gave.
Should’ve thought about the fact you were both naked before you jumped on her.
“Listen, love,” he growled, trying to shove the delicious sensations stirring in his groin from his mind. “Just calm down and—”
Seismic rage erupted in her ice-green eyes. “GET! OFF! ME!”
Her body tensed with each bellowed word, thrusting her soft, damp heat harder against his now-throbbing cock.
Declan’s head swam, the change still too fresh in his system, the primitive, elemental instincts of the werewolf still too powerful. The musky scent of her sweat and sex threaded into his every breath. Intoxicating. Potent. She was a fighter, a warrior… She’d risked her life to save those incapable of saving themselves. The wolf in his blood growled in ancient appreciation, in hunger…
Unable not to,
he leant down to kiss her.
One second he stared down at her, struggling to hold her still, the next he captured her lips with his and tasted her with his tongue.
For a moment, she lay beneath him, her exquisitely bare body locked frozen with shock. And why not? A man she’d never met before was kissing her, a man who—only seconds earlier—had been a bloody, great big wolf stretched out on her sofa. He almost pulled away, rational thought smashing down on him. But then, a slight tremble rippled through her, her arms snaked up around his neck and she was kissing him back. Deeply.
Her tongue battled his, curled and delved and flicked. Her teeth nipped at his bottom lip and a jolt of liquid heat shot straight to his groin, bringing a low and utterly raw groan to his throat. He dragged his hands from her wrists, down the smooth columns of her arms, his thumbs brushing the heavy swell of her breasts pressed flat against his body. The contact, light and fleeting, sent another surge of wet heat into his balls and his already-hard cock pulsed with new, eager blood.
What are you doing?
He didn’t know. The change had never left him so vulnerable to his werewolf’s desires, so manipulated by those animalistic cravings before. All he knew, all he cared about at that very moment, was how wonderfully warm and sensual the woman beneath him felt. How completely she returned his kiss.
He plunged his tongue into her mouth again, shifting his weight to smooth a hand up the delicious curve of her breast. The soft feel of it under his palm, the puckered peak of her nipple under his fingertips made him groan again, made his breath catch in his tight throat. Praise Mary, she felt so damn wonder—
Something hard and small smacked into his temple.
Explosive, white-hot pain erupted in Declan’s head. Eyes blurring, he rolled to the side. Christ, she’d hit him!
“Get off me!”
She lashed out, completely dislodging his weight before he recovered. She’d hit him! Christ, she’d almost knocked him out.
“Get the fuck off me!”
Another savage blow thumped against his head, this one narrowly missing his nose. He reeled back, pain and blood roaring in his ears. She’d hit him! While he was drowning in her taste and feel, she’d hit him!
Almost stumbling across the floor, Declan reached for his throbbing head, eyes still incapable of focusing. The blurred shape of the woman leapt to her feet, and he got the sense she was on the verge of kicking into him. A squirming wave of admiration rolled through him and his cock, still too full of hungry blood, twitched. “Shit, love, do you know how to throw a punch!”
The blurred shape loomed over him. “What the bloody hell are you and what have you done with my lizard?”
Declan blinked, both in confusion and in an attempt to clear his vision. “Your what?”
“Where the hell’s my lizard?” Long, bare legs came into focus—briefly—drawing his attention up to their apex and a distant, devious part of Declan’s mind—the part not in pain—noticed she not only knew how to punch, she also knew how to handle a razor.
Get your head out of the gutter. “Lady, I don’t know anything about a—”
“Where’s my lizard, you goddamn freak?”
Her roar split the room and sharp pain pounded through Declan’s head. Hell, he liked it better when she thought he was a wolf. “I haven’t seen your bloody lizard,” he growled, staggering to his feet. He squinted at her, relief flooding through him when she appeared sharp. In focus. “Praise Mary, I thought you’d buggered up my sight for good!”
She stared at him, gloriously naked, her lithe, toned and very perfect body shaking with what he assumed was rage. Her hands were clenched into rock-hard fists beside her thighs, her legs spread, knees bent slightly. Her hair tumbled across her straight, tensed shoulders in a shaggy curtain of rich-chocolate waves, falling to her nipples, drawing his gaze to her heaving breasts. She looked ready to attack. To rip him limb from limb. Such a different creature to the one only moments earlier smoothing her soft, gentle hands over said limbs in an attempt to find any injuries. What a contradiction.
What a—
“Where. Is. My. Lizard?”
Hands raised, he took a step forward. “Listen, love. I don’t know anything about a lizard, I haven’t seen a lizard, I haven’t even smelt a lizard.” He stared at her, saw confusion shimmer in her ice-green eyes, saw her muscles tense with each word he said. He returned his eyes to her face, needing to keep his attention away from her body. It was too flawless. Too distracting. “Now, you need to listen to me because while you did a very brave and noble thing breaking into Epoc’s lab, you also did a very stupid thing.”
Her jaw clenched, and those striking eyes narrowed. “I’m beginning to realize that.”
Declan didn’t miss the caustic insinuation. He was a journalist, after all. Well, had been a journalist back in Dublin. Who knows what he’d call himself now? Lone wolf? He cringed at the cliché. And the black look of murder on the woman’s face. “I’m going to say this as plainly as possible,” he went on, risking another step closer, “and I don’t want you to start screaming about your bloody lizard again. We have to get out of here. You have to come with me. Right now.”
She straightened, and he swore he heard her spine snap straight. The fact she was stark naked seemed to have completely slipped her mind. She glared at him, bunched fists on hips too smooth and curved for Declan’s peace of mind. “One kiss and you think I’m ready to elope?” She cocked a dark, arched eyebrow. “You had more chance when you were a wolf.”
Declan raised one of his own eyebrows. “Yeah, I noticed.”
Cool eyes bored into him. “What are you?”
“It’s usual practice to ask ‘who’ are you, the answer to which, is the man you just kissed.”
The woman crossed her arms, stare flat and decidedly icy. “Put it down to temporary insanity. I’m not in the habit of kissing strange men.”
Declan’s lips twitched. “And yet…”
A dusky pink blush painted the woman’s cheeks, a vision so innocent and beguiling a swelling wave of heat rolled through him and pooled low in his gut.
“I don’t know who or what you are. But it’s time for you to go.”
The desire to step forward, curl his fingers around her arms and pull her to his body crashed over him. Christ, it had been so long since a female affected him like this. The search for Maggie’s killer had consumed him. Nothing but finding his sister’s murderer had existed—or mattered. Yet here he was, in—based on the accents he’d heard since being captured—Australia, the other side of the world, and he was horny.
And stupid. You think Epoc hasn’t tracked you both down yet? Stop standing around thinking with your dick and start using your head. Her life depends on you now. Whether she likes it or not.
“You’re right. It is time to go.” He destroyed the distance between them, closed his hands around her arms and fixed her with a level stare. “Both of us.”
Her reaction was swift and immediate. She kicked him.
The ball of her foot rammed straight into his shin. Bright pain shot up his leg, making his balls shrink. He bit back a shout, sinking his fingers harder into her biceps and glaring down at her. “Stop it. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Green eyes flashed fury and—goddamn it—fear. “Let me go.”
“I—”
She struck out before he finished, jerking her knee up fast and hard, and it was only the grace of God—and his preternatural reflexes—that saved his balls being mashed up into the base of his spine. He twisted his body, right thigh taking the blow, the awkward action making the bullet wound in his side erupt with fresh, blistering pain. Jesus Christ!
Declan’s patience snapped. In one fluid move he spun about, flung the woman onto the cushions of the sofa he’d been lying on only minutes earlier and followed the path of her body with his own, pinning her to the piece of furniture with his hands, hips and legs. A growl burst from his throat and, temper boiling, he bared his teeth. �
�Listen to me, love. We don’t have time for this. Nathan Epoc’s mongrels will be here any second and if they find us, they’ll kill you.” He tightened his grip on her wrists, staring hard at her. “After they rape you. As men and then as wolves.”
The blood drained from the woman’s face and she froze, body stiller than a statue. “Wolves…” The word fell from her lips in a stunned breath. “My God, what the hell is going on?”
Declan clenched his jaw. “Unfortunately, more than you ever wanted to know.” He relaxed his hold on her wrists. A little. “Now you have exactly sixty seconds to pull on some clothes and get ready to leave. After that we’re out of here, dressed or not.”
The woman tensed and he saw rage ignite in her eyes again. “I’m not going anywhere with you. My lizard… The cops…”
Declan shook his head. “Epoc owns the cops. Perhaps you didn’t hear me earlier when I said rape and murder. I wasn’t kidding. They will do things to you no human mind could imagine. Unless you come with me.” He shifted his weight, tight impatience eating at him. “Trust me, I’ll explain everything I can later, but we have to go. Now.”
He rose to his feet, hoping to God he’d made his point. His heart hammered and his blood roared. He tried to tell himself it was adrenaline making his body behave so, but he knew otherwise. Lust scorched through his veins—and at that very moment, lust was almost more dangerous than Epoc.
The woman stared up at him, naked body vulnerable, sharp eyes defiant. A second passed before, with fluid grace, she leapt to her feet, sprinting across the room to disappear through a far door, the flexing muscles of her toned ass playing merry hell with his senses. He studied the door she’d passed through, listening to what was happening in the room. The sound of drawers opening and clothes rustling satisfied him and, dragging his hands through his hair, he turned and surveyed the room around him. She didn’t trust him, yet—and really, was there any wonder? But maybe if he found this missing lizard of hers…
A very faint click sounded in his ear and he flicked his head slightly to the left, tuning into the noises emanating from her room. His eyes narrowed. Damn it, she’d picked up a phone.
Animal Page 12